Thursday, 12 July 2012

An unshakeable sense of self

"Life in plastic, it's fantastic"

Is there anything more
powerful than a parent's love? I remember reading Lemalu Tate Simi's seminal
poem "Identity"* when I was in school. Even then, well before I had
imagined what it would be like to have a child, to have someone hold my whole
heart in his chubby little hands, to lie in the dark, listening to his breath
heavy with sleep, and hope for everything for him, even then, one of the things
that touched me most about Lemalu's poem, was that it was written for his
eldest son. That poem captures a parent's love and the prayers and plans we
make for our children.

Perhaps I recognised
in those poignant words, a reflection of my own parents love, and what they
strove to give me.

My parent's chose to
bring me and my brothers up in the bosom of my family and fa'asamoa. Yes the full fa'asamoa. The
'leave-you-very-lucky-to-eat-elegi-because-we-have-to-give-every-sene-for-your-father's-great-uncle's-cousin's-step-son's-saofai-and-smile'fa'asamoa. The
'you-better-be-paying-attention-because-we-all-automatically-assume-you-were-born-knowing-how-to-ta'i-sua-and-fai-folafolaga'
fa'asamoa. The fa’asamoa that emphasises the fegaiga
between brothers and their sisters, and brings families together. The faasamoa that we all know and love to
whinge about because it's a way of life, a way to look at life, and an
integral part of who we are.

I say
"chose" because by the time I was born, my dad had almost finished
his PhD, and my mum was one paper away from finishing her Masters, so they
both had options and opportunities overseas. Instead they went back to the
struggle that living in Samoa can be. I have always been unbelievably grateful
for that decision. Particularly to my palagi mother,
who left her friends, family and her country, to raise me in mine.

So I don't say 'even with', but rather because I had a palagi mum, who loved me and wanted me
to have a strong sense of identity, and who sacrificed so we could grow up in
Samoa (and because I had a Samoan father stubborn about serving his country, and a close and loving aiga who never treated us differently),
I grew up never thinking of myself as anything but Samoan. I have read many touching stories about Samoans searching for identity. I was not one of them. I have never struggled with who I was or where I came from. I know how fortunate
that makes me.

But I also know it doesn't make me any better than people whose parents
chose another path, who moved overseas, so often motivated by that very same
love. Samoans whose parents or grandparents often worked in factories and freezing
works, hard and heavy work, but welcome because it was a way of securing good
schooling, of seeking opportunities, and of forging a future for their children. The legacy of those parents' love, those parents' choices, those parents' sacrifices should never be undermined by pejorative remarks that their progeny is "plastic" or "too palagi".

That kind of prejudice within our own society perplexes me. I remember when I first went back to work in Samoa I was somewhat surprised when a lawyer I knew said she wanted to be the first Samoan woman to be
Attorney-General. Now obviously that ambition, in and of itself, wasn't surprising. Rather what shocked me was that she somehow didn't think that that particular milestone had already been achieved. Particularly because, at the time, we had a Samoan woman as Attorney-General. I voiced my puzzlement.

“No, I mean a real Samoan, you know, from Samoa”

I didn't know. Was the AG at the time, a "fake" Samoan? Was her "palagi-ness" going to pop out at any second and surprise us? Or was it rather, that having nothing of substance to use to undermine her with, she turned to bigotry and bias to try to belittle this brilliant colleague.

I still don't know why we differentiate and discriminate amongst ourselves the way we do. It saddens me, and it is not just
against Samoans who live or grow up overseas. Oh no, there are so many more levels.

I remember being
honestly confused when I was in school and someone said “We better get to Apia Park early… you know how those Samoans are”.

I questioned, “What are you talking about? We’re all Samoan”

There was a rolling of
eyes. “Oh you know what I mean! Samoan
Samoans! Like from the village!”

“Hmmm… I find that offensive. I’m Samoan, my father’s Samoan, my family
is Samoan and I’m from a village, several actually”

More rolling of eyes “Se don't be a drama queen; I didn’t mean it
like that”. There seemed to be general agreement that I was ruining
a perfectly pleasant day by pointing out the prejudice.

I didn't escape this type of silliness on leaving school, or on leaving Samoa. Years later when I went
to University in Auckland, a friend who was also on scholarship from Samoa,
cajoled and convinced me into going to an Asosi meeting with her. "It will be sooooo fuuuuun." Her wheedling won but we weren’t exactly
welcomed. While it was a Samoan Asosi, it seemed like we were just a little too…. wait for it…Samoan. Our fabulous fresh-off-the-boatness was just obviously not for everybody. “Don’t worry” said one of my Samoan law school buddies sympathetically, “Didn’t you know
you’re not allowed in that Asosi if you’re less than a size 18”. Though he was perpetuating the stereotypes I'm now railing against for my amusement, I have to admit at the time... I laughed.

I could tell many more such stories- more recent and each more ridiculous than the next- and I'm sure every other Samoan could too- but I only recount enough to reflect the cross-section of prejudices that we subject ourselves to within our own society. Whether it's because you're "too white" as Leilani Tamu recounts in her opinion piece "White, but not quite" or "too Samoan", or for whatever reason, it's really just such a waste of time. We should be better than that. Isn't that what we should really want for our children? A strong enough sense of identity they don't feel the need to stereotype and stigmatise.

Now that I am a parent myself, I plan and pray about what is best for my child. My son is Samoan, lo'u toto, ma lo'u ivi (oh, and that's right, and his dad is Samoan too, that may have something to do with it...). While I know that I don't need a salu lima, or to raise my son in Salailua to show he is Samoan, a large part of me still longs to give him the childhood I had. Surrounded by warmth and beauty, family and faikakalas. I, like all parents, worry about whether we are making the right choices. I suppose at the end of the day, whether we are in Sydney or in Samoa, I just want to give him what my parents gave me- an unshakeable sense of self.

*Identityby Lemalu Tate SimiEducate yourself enoughSo you may understandThe ways of other peopleBut not too muchThat you may loseYour understandingOf your ownTry things palagiNot so you may become palagiBut so may see the valueOf things SamoanLearn to speak Samoannot so you may sound Samoanbut so you mayfeel the essenceof being SamoanAbove allBe aware and proudOf what you areSo you may spare yourselfThe agony of those who are asking“What am I ? “

I was starting 7th grade when my mum came back from Samoa with a copy of that poem that Tate had given her, for my Born-and-raised-off-island siblings and I. I carry a rumpled copy of it in my purse - for those moments when I get whiny and mad because we only have falai elegi for dinner or when my parents decide we are sending a rather large sum of money ending in a minimum of 3 zeroes for the funeral of someone we've never met. *sigh* Thank you for writing such a great piece. I was nodding along in agreement with all the points you made. Keep on keeping on (-:

Thanks Teine-Sa, I'm glad you enjoyed it... I won't expect you to print it out and keep a rumpled copy to hand..a :-)

Thanks Jo_an, I hope my point of view is not too "distinct" ie. different, rather I hope that we call all examine our own prejudices particularly when they happen within our own society, and try and overcome them. I'm glad you enjoyed the piece and I always appreciate the feedback.

About Me

Proud to be fresh off the boat, since that boat comes from Samoa. I'm short on time so I am with Wellesley- 'publish and be damned'.
I encourage you to engage, to not just be a spectator, to take advantage of this amazing technology that allows us to speak across the seas and say something. Ua vela le fala.